


Trial by Fire

by thepentagram (kairos_system)



Series: In Which the Boy Who Lived Doesn't [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, 1980s, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Blood Magic, Death Eaters, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Initiation, Inner Circle Elevation, Patricide, Torture, test
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 07:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairos_system/pseuds/thepentagram
Summary: During the First Wizarding World, a young Death Eater is given the opportunity to prove herself to her master by torturing a traitor to the Dark Side — who happens to be her father.





	Trial by Fire

“Barnaby Avery, you stand in front of your Lord and Master as well as a full assembly of Death Eaters, to answer to your charge of betrayal of your superiors as well as the cause as a whole. Do you know why you are here?”

Vivian shivered as the Dark Lord’s eyes bore into her father’s brain. She knew that thanks to Legilimency, he could tell what was going through his head without asking, but the Dark Lord had a tendency for the dramatic, and it was more humiliating to be interrogated and then tortured in front of a full assembly than if it was just an audience of his Master.

“Yes. I gave information to the Ministry,” Barnaby answered.

“He thinks his loyalty is to his government over his Lord,” the Dark Lord said with a chuckle, looking at the assembled Death Eaters who were all shaking their heads. “I think it would be appropriate for someone to show him what happens when a Death Eater fails to be loyal.”

His eyes swept over the crowd, settling on Vivian. “Avery,” he called out. Her cousin, Abel, elbowed her in the side to jolt her to attention.

“Me?” Vivian asked, surprised but realising she really should not have been. Her father had been disloyal to the cause — clearly choosing his only daughter to torture him would be a good test of whether she was disloyal as well.

“Yes, you, darling,” The Dark Lord smiled, and Vivian could feel his eyes pulling her up to the front of the room.

It would be better to walk up of her own free will than to experience him  _ making _ her do that, so she walked up to the figure, crouched before the Dark Lord’s throne in a pleading position. 

“Would you like to show your father what happens to those who betray their master, Vivian?” Voldemort asked, his voice chilling her down to her bone. 

“Yes,” she answered.

“Yes?” A corner of Voldemort’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Well then, that’s not an answer you hear every day.”

“My loyalty is to you, My Lord. It has been every day since the day I took your Mark two years ago,” Vivian answered, surprising herself with how steadily her voice came out. Of course, saying no to this request clearly would not have been possible. He was testing her — to see whether she would choose loyalty to him and the cause over her family, to see whether she was squeamish.

“Well then, start,” The Dark Lord flung his hand, pushing Barnaby Avery away from the base of his throne. 

Vivian stood over her father, glowering at him. “When you made your wedding vows with my mother and mingled the magic in your blood with hers, you promised to stand by her and the laws of the Land of the Blessed, which is allied with your Master. You have betrayed both the royal family of the Land of the Blessed as well as your Master in one  _ idiotic  _ move.  _ Crucio _ !”

As her abusive father writhed in exquisite pain, Vivian smiled, enjoying every moment. She turned to her Lord and inquired “My Lord, shall I show my father how unworthy he is of the magical blood that flows through his body?”

She thought back to the times she’d seen her mother cuddling in her marital bed with her father, dark skin pressed up against his pale body that was far more common in Magical Britain than the Land of the Blessed, and shuddered. He did not deserve to touch her. He’d  _ never  _ deserved to touch her, and he did not deserve to pass his genes and magic onto a daughter of royal lineage. 

The Dark Lord simply nodded.

Barnaby Avery’s eyes widened in horror as Vivian cast a summoning spell and a candle with a healing rune on it flew into the room. Her mother and the rest of the de Courcy family had a penchant for magic that involved healing or energy, but most of their magic was considered Dark by Magical Britain standards. She Transfigured a piece of lace from her dress into a pin, and then pricked her unwilling father’s hand with it to light the candle. It would get worse. It only took a drop of blood to actually light the candle and start the energy spell, but more to charge it to the strength Vivian hoped for. 

Energy magic that involved blood wasn’t Dark unless the participant was unwilling. But her father was, so this was the perfect spell to torture the traitorous scum with. 

The runes didn’t actually require incantations, so Vivian was able to have quite some fun being theatrical and playing the room full of Death Eaters while the change slowly took effect. “Father dearest, you know exactly what this magic does, but people less versed in the magic of Ancient Runes might not. The usual version of this spell uses a healer’s magical energy contained in her blood to give energy to a specific person, but I’ve altered it a bit… this one will take  _ your  _ magical energy and release it to the room, so that it can better serve the cause. Oh look, there some goes!” More little pinpricks had been forming in his skin as Vivian spoke, and she cast a spell that had no practical purpose other than showing what a person’s magic would look like in the air if it was visible. It was fun for rituals, and also fun for torture, because it would mess with her dear father’s mind to see his magic and blood both leaving him.

The larger sacrifice of blood poured out of her father’s body in a string, nestling itself around the candle. The flame grew taller as the magic rose to the ceiling, swirling around with no idea of what to do. For now it was creating a state of excitement in the room, and Vivian wondered if she would have to further direct the magic about what to do. Magic definitely had a will of its own a lot of the time. In an ideal situation, it would have been evenly distributed… but magic tended to be pulled towards one person in specific.

“You have betrayed the aims of our cause, so you will die in a fitting manner, with your magical energy slowly leaving your body and energizing this room,” Vivian cast a spell to encourage the magic to spread more evenly, and small particles broke off to move to Death Eaters, but overall it seemed very uncooperative.

“Are you somehow keeping your magic close to you despite us specifically not wanting you to? How rude,” Vivian told her father, casting the Cruciatus Curse at him. He writhed in pain, and Vivian saw Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort smiling. That curse was good entertainment, and it was even more fun than other torture curses because it would get any adult who performed it in Azkaban. But Vivian was under the protection of her Lord, so that would never happen.

After the Cruciatus Curse had been performed on Barnaby Avery, he was a sobbing mess from the loss of his magic and the torture. Vivian looked up at the Dark Lord, hoping for a signal of sorts that she was allowed to kill him. The Dark Lord nodded, and she swirled back to her father.

“As you know, disloyalty is punished in the extreme. The appropriate thing to do would be to kill you now,” Vivian said with a slow smile, casting the Cruciatus Curse on her father again for a little bit more fun.

“Please. Don’t. You’re better than that, Vivi. You wouldn’t kill your father…” her father pleaded, causing her smile to widen even more.

“Incorrect. I am loyal to my Lord.  _ Avada Kedavra, _ ” A jet of green light hit her father in the chest, and the yellow sparks that symbolized his magic took a nosedive. Two different nosedives, actually — half of it hit Vivian in the chest, and half flew to the Dark Lord’s body.

Bellatrix immediately rushed to the Dark Lord’s side, making sure that the magic hadn’t done anything to him. But like Vivian, he was only stronger, although of course he’d taken the sudden addition of magic to his body better than Vivian.

“Avery. Come with me,” The Dark Lord said, staring her down again.

Vivian didn’t even hesitate, picking herself up from the floor and rushing over to the two.

“You won’t need your wand. Hand it to Bellatrix,” he instructed her.

Vivian’s eyes grew wide, but she wouldn’t dream of disobeying his instruction. She didn’t  _ think  _ she was being punished, but what if he’d seen something in her that he didn’t like?

“Death Eaters never need their wand when they’re being elevated to the Inner Circle. Come with me.”


End file.
